


No Glass Slipper

by GhostlyWitchAvenger



Category: Cinderella (2015), Supernatural
Genre: Castiel as Cinderella, Cinderella AU, Destiel - Freeform, Dialogue mostly not mine, Kid Sam Winchester, M/M, Male Cinderella, Minor Character Death, Mostly from movie, Out of Character, Poor Chuck, Prince Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 05:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7209638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyWitchAvenger/pseuds/GhostlyWitchAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it’s the Cinderella story you’re looking for, prepare yourself for so much more. There is a man who lives with ash, haunted by an extremely dark past. He dreams of love and family, and if he’s lucky, he might just get it. </p><p>Be warned, there are no glass slippers and singing maids in this story.</p><p>Based heavily off of Cinderella (2015)</p><p>ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Glass Slipper

_Once upon a time, there was a boy called Castiel. And he saw the world not always as it was, but as perhaps it could be, with just a little bit of magic._

_To his mother and father, he was a prince.True, he had no title, nor crown, nor castle, but he was the ruler of his own little kingdom, whose borders were the house and meadow on the forest's edge where his people had lived for generations. With Mr. Goose and all their animal family._

“Good morning!” A child giggled in delight as he skipped over to the gaggle of animals, all perusing the ground and looking for food. He tossed the morning grain to the birds and gasped in indignation, “What do you think you’re doing? Let the smaller ones have their share! Besides, you’ll get an upset stomach.” There was no real heat in his words, because in the end, the animals were always fair to each other.  
Small movement to the right caught his attention and he crouched to the ground. Two mice were nibbling on kernels of corn, their chewing frantic.  
“Now Gus-Gus, you’re a house mouse, not a field mouse. What are you doing all the way out here? You too Jacqueline?” The tiny mice crawled into his hands, lying rather comfortably in his small palms. Blue eyes turned to look at his mother sitting mere feet away, and his smile became even brighter, “Isn’t that right, mummy?”  
Grey eyes crinkled in the corners and blonde hair shimmered as she tossed her head back in laughter, “Do you still believe they understand you, Cas?” The small boy’s smile faltered a little in confusion and he tilted his head to the side, eyes squinting a bit in scrutiny.  
“Don’t they, mother?”  
“Why yes, I do. I believe that animals listen and speak to us if we only have the ear for it,” Castiel’s smile returned to its full brightness as he walked over to stand in front of his mother, “That’s how we learn to look after them.”  
“Then who looks after us?” A breeze brushed past the duo and they both tittered when their hair fluttered around their faces. Setting the mice down gently, Cas patted his black hair down with his small hands and sat next to his mother, smiling up at her.  
“Fairy godmothers, of course!”  
“And do you believe in them?”  
“I believe in everything.”  
“Then I believe in everything, too!” They giggled at that.

_His father was a merchant who went abroad and brought tribute back from all of Castiel's subject lands._

“Cas!”  
Both mother and son perked up at the familiar voice, and the little boy didn’t hesitate to spring up and run in the direction of his father.  
“Where is my family, my beautiful family? Where are my darlings?”

_Castiel missed him terribly when he was away. But he knew he would always return._

“There he is!” Chuck shouted, his scruffy beard quivering in excitement. His son didn’t hesitate in launching himself into his father’s arms after veering around the wagon in the parkway. His mother chose to lean on the archway, watching the two of them interact.  
“Papa! Welcome home! I missed you!” Castiel’s arms gripped the older man tight in a hug only a child could give. One so full of love and loyalty and home. They both spun on the spot a bit before the traveler stopped in sudden realization. The father set Cas down on the decorative bench on top of a grassy mound.  
“You’ve grown haven’t you?” It was forced out in shock and the little ‘prince’ merely smiled up at him. One of their help passed by with a ‘here you go, sir’ and dropped a small box into Chuck’s hand behind his back.  
“What is that?”  
“Oh, this thing? I found it hanging in a tree. Of all things!” He brought it between the two of them, before crouching down to his son’s level. His voice dropped down to a whisper, “Between you and me, I think there may be something inside.”  
Cas’ hands gingerly handled the small green box, fingers brushing over the woven sides. After a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the button on top and gasped when it opened suddenly, revealing an origami butterfly inside, “It’s so pretty…”  
“In French, they call that _un papillon._ ”  
“ _Un papillon_ ,” The child repeated hesitantly.  
“ _Tres bien! Voulez-vous francais avec-moi, monsieur?_ ”  
“ _Sil-vous-plait_.”  
“ _Merci beaucoup_ ,” Lifting Cas by his hands, tiny feet planted themselves upon larger ones, “Ouch! Ow! You’re standing on my feet!” Chuck cried out in mock pain as they waddled their way around, causing Cas to laugh. Being the kind hearted child he was, he stepped off. His father bent down a little, giving him a mischievous look, “Shall we?”  
After a quick nod, they started jumping and spinning towards Mrs. Shurley, “Look mummy, I’m dancing!” The dancing was short lived as Chuck went to greet his beloved wife with a hug. Cas played a bit with one of the household servants, making the butterfly fly in the air, “Little papillon.”

_All was just as it should be. They knew themselves to be the most happy of families to live as they did and to love each other so._

Amelia Shurley gazed down lovingly at her little angel as she closed the story book, singing the lullaby she always sung for her child as he slept.

>   
>  When I am king, dilly, dilly  
>  You shall be queen  
>  Lavender's green, dilly, dilly  
>  Lavender's blue  
>  You must love me, dilly, dilly  
>  For I love you.  
> 

Castiel didn’t notice his mother leave in a bit of a coughing fit, nor when she collapsed outside his bedroom door.  
 _But sorrow can come to any kingdom, no matter how happy. And so it came to Castiel’s home._

Cas dutifully sat in the chair outside of his mother’s room, and didn’t look up when both his father and the town doctor walked out. He didn’t like this feeling of dread that had settled into his stomach. He didn’t want his mummy to go away, but the doctor wouldn’t let him kiss her boo-boos away.  
“I’m so sorry.”  
“Thank you doctor.”  
The pair didn’t notice the boy at first, but when they did, there was a short period of silence. His father didn’t age overnight, he knew that, but something about him seemed older. His eyes looked tired and it looked like all happiness had been sucked out of him. Why did this have to happen to them? They were kind; they were happy. So wrapped within his own musings, Cas almost didn’t notice when Chuck held a hand out to him, “Come, Castiel.”  
After standing, the father-son duo walked slowly into the room, where Amelia was bundled in a blanket on the loveseat. Her face seemed hollow and heavy bags were visible under her eyes. Her skin pallor was pale and it was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She looked weak. Cas didn’t want to see his mother like this.  
Mrs. Shurley paused in rubbing her forehead to look up, “Castiel, my darling,” Even her voice lacked in strength, “I want to tell you a secret. A great secret that will see you through all the trials that life can offer.”  
The little boy felt his chin begin to tremble and a burning behind his eyes to grow in intensity. He took a few hesitant steps closer to his mother, his small hand being encased with her own.  
“You must always remember this,” The next words actually forced a tear to cling to his eyelashes, “Have courage and be kind. You have more kindness in your little finger than most people possess in their whole body. And it has power, more than you know. And magic.”  
“Magic?” It was a shaky smile.  
“Truly,” Amelia flashed a quick smile before pursing her lips, tears of her own running down her cheeks, “Have courage and be kind, my darling. Will you promise me?”  
“I promise,” Castiel straightened his back, putting on a brave front for his mother.  
“I must go very soon, my love,” Her voice shook with raw emotion, “Please forgive me.”  
His breaths came out in gasps, “Of course I forgive you,” He leaned forward and gave his mother the best hug he could manage: tight, close and full of love, “I love you.”  
“I love you, darling.”

_Time passed, and pain turned to memory. In his heart, Cas stayed the same. For he remembered his promise to his mother. Have courage, and be kind._

_Father, however, was much changed. But he hoped for better times._

Castiel was now a handsome young man, who retained his bright and inquisitive blue eyes. His black hair was still as messy as ever. He grew to enjoy reading, which was what he was doing at the moment. Across from himself, his father sat with a cup of tea. His hair was now dotted with grey, " ‘And thence home, and my wife and I singing, to our great content, and if ever there were a man happier in his fortunes, I know him not,’” He closed the muted green book with a snap, “Thus ends Mr. Pepys for today. I do love a happy ending, don’t you?”  
“They’re quite my favourite sort, as well they should be,” Chuck, being himself a writer, read almost anything he could get his hands on. His most favourite genre, it turns out, is ones on the supernatural. However, those were rather frowned upon so there were few in print, “Castiel, I have come to the conclusion that it's time, perhaps, to begin a new chapter.”  
Shocked as he was at the change in conversation, Cas still managed to reply, “Indeed, father?” He cocked his head to the side and adjusted how he was sitting on the loveseat, book now lying flat in his lap.  
“You'll recall that some time ago, in my travels, I made the acquaintance of Sir Francis Abaddon.”  
“Yes. The Master of the Men of Letters, is he not?”  
“Was. The poor man has died, alas,” The heir of Shurley felt something tighten in his chest, “His widow, an honorable woman, finds herself alone, though still in the prime of her life.”  
“You're worried about telling me,” Castiel let a chuckle escape his lips as his eyes teared, “But you mustn't be. Not if it will lead to your happiness.”  
“Yes! Happiness!” An almost crazed look entered Chuck’s eyes as he leaned forward, a breathless laugh brushing past his lips, “Do you think I may be allowed one last chance,even though I thought such things were done with for good?”  
Gleeful laughter filled the room when Castiel rushed forward to hug his father, “Of course I do!”  
“She’ll merely be your stepmother, and you’ll have two lovely sisters to keep you company of course!”  
Several days later found Castiel on the doorstep to his house besides his giddy father, awaiting the presence of his step relations. He reflected his own father’s mood despite his inner mantra of: have courage, be kind. Cas heard the carriage before he saw it. Poor Mr. Goose went to go see what the commotion was, but quickly turned tail - quite literally - and ran back the way he came, lest he be run underfoot.  
“Welcome ladies, welcome!” Mr. Shurley shouted, arms as wide as his smile.  
“He’s so skinny, like a broomstick!”  
“Look at his messy hair!”  
Castiel refused to let his smile waiver at those comments when two girls, his own age, stepped out. The first had long curly dark brown hair curled into ringlets and high brows. She wore a ruby red dress with lace and folds that looked awfully expensive. She fluttered her eyelashes at his father when he helped her out of the carriage, “You’re very nice.” Following immediately behind her, dress and hair styled the same was a blonde girl, who gave the property a derisive sniff. They both came to a stop in front of him.  
“I really like your hair,” Said the blonde.  
“Thank you.”  
“You should style it,” Said the brunette.  
That caught him off guard, “I-I’m sure you’re right,” He felt his deep baritone respond, while his mind kept telling him that was a double edged comment. _Have courage and be kind._  
“Would you like me to show you two around?”  
“What did he say?”  
“I think he wants to show us around his farmhouse.”  
“He’s proud of it I think.”  
A loud feline yowl interrupted the two girls before their comments could get any worse, as a grey cat with a squashed face jumped out of the coach. The cat was connected to a leash, which was connected to a slender arm which was - in turn - connected to a tall intimidating woman wearing a rich black dress. A mourning dress. Blue eyes followed up the body from louis heels, to bodice, to strong shoulders, all the way up to an immaculately painted face with perfectly styled red hair. Lady Abaddon was beautiful, tall, dark, and imposing.  
“How charming, how perfectly charming” Her voice was like velvet as she stalked forward, ignoring Castiel’s presence entirely. The cat started to stray, “Lucifer.”

_His stepmother-to-be was a woman of keen feeling and refined taste. And she, too, had known grief. But she wore it wonderfully well._

Only his father followed her into the house. The lady tilted her head side to side, taking in stock of her surroundings. Once she saw the drawing room, she smiled and her lips moved like red paint on porcelain. Chuck gave him a thumbs up and an enthusiastic smile behind the lady’s back, which Cas returned in kind, but when his father turned away the smile fell from his face. These people seemed horrible and Castiel was sure that in his father’s loneliness, he looked for any sort of companionship in any sort of person. _Have courage and be kind._ A smile came to his lips once again.  
“What does mummy mean? What’s so charming about it,” Blonde.  
“She’s lying, that’s just good manners,” Brunette.  
He followed behind the sisters - his sisters now - as they questioned his father, “How long has your family had this house?”  
“For over 200 years I believe.”  
“And in all that time, they never thought to redecorate?”  
“Ruby, hush,” Their mother admonished. So the blonde is Ruby, then the brunette must be Meg, “They’ll think you are in earnest.”

_Castiel's stepmother, high-spirited lady that she was, set out to restore life and laughter to the house._

Castiel didn’t really approve of the parties his stepmother threw, for their house was not built for such activity. But as Mrs. Abaddon, and for being alone as long as she was, he couldn’t really blame her. Besides, she could do as she pleased.  
Passing by the busy room full of gambling and drinking, the quiet son found his favourite mice in the hallways, “Well, look who’s having a party of their own! Jacqueline, Teddy, Matilda; greedy Gus-Gus,” He gave the largest mouse a knowing smile as he proceeded to nibble on the piece of cheese between his little paws. A growl from the stairs and Cas caught sight of the cat. Chuckling, large calloused hands picked up the cat and snuggled him close to his body, “Just what… yes, just what do you think you’re up to, Lucifer? Jacqueline is my guest, and the eating of guests is not allowed. Off you go now, there’s plenty of food to keep you happy.”  
Immediately after placing the feline back on the carpeted floor he took off to the kitchen.  
“Gotta stick up for the ladies,” Castiel winked at the female mouse before heading towards his father’s study. Upon entering the room, he was met with his father hunched over the table. His glasses sat on the tip of his nose, grey eyes narrowed in concentration, “You’re missing the party.”  
Without even looking up, the head of the house merely shrugged, “I imagine it’s much like the rest of them,” He didn’t miss a beat, “I’m leaving first thing in the morning, Cas.”  
The young man huffed, “You’ve only just returned from your last trip, do you have to go?”  
“It’s only a couple of months, darling. What would you like me to bring you back from abroad? Your sisters-” Cas made a face, “Stepsisters. They both have asked for parasols and lace.”  
“I would like the first branch that brushes your shoulder.”  
“What a strange request.”  
“Well, you'll have to take it with you on your way and think of me when you look at it,” Understanding dawned on CHuck’s face and he gave his son a tired smile, “And when you bring it back, it means that you'll be with it. And that's what I really want. For you to come back. No matter what.”  
“I will,” He went back to write a few more words on his report before sighing and removing his glasses, “Castiel, I want you to be good with your stepmother and stepsisters, as trying as they might be at times.”  
“I promise.”  
“Thank you,” It reminded him terribly of the last day he had with his mother, and he forced himself to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Tears still came forth unbidden and he furiously wiped them away. His father easily stood to pull him into a hug, tears of his own forming, “I always leave a part of me behind, Cas. Remember that. And your mother's here, too, though you see her not. She's the very heart of this place. And that's why we must cherish this house, always, for her.”  
“I miss her terribly,” Castiel whispered brokenly, “Do you?”  
“Of course I do.”  
The next morning Castiel waved his father off with a teary goodbye, ignoring his sisters’ insistence on their parasols. For their complexion. Which means skin, if you didn’t know.  
“Now now, we mustn’t blub,” Lady Abaddon appeared next to him with a handkerchief, which he took gratefully.  
“Yes, stepmother.”  
“You needn’t call me that,” Cas’ eyes lit up briefly, “Just ‘madame’ will do,” Then they dimmed again. A little spat between the sisters made itself known and they both turned to them, “Meg and Ruby have always shared a room. Such dear, affectionate girls. I think they’re finding their sleeping quarters quite confining.”  
“Sometimes I could scratch your eyes out!”  
“Well, my bedroom is the largest, besides yours and father’s. Perhaps they’d like to share it?” Cas muttered as he glanced anxiously at his stepsisters, their argument getting more heated with each passing second.  
“Such a good boy.”  
“I could stay-”  
“In the attic! Yes.”  
“The attic?” He couldn’t have heard right.  
“Yes!” Before he knew it, the both of them were in the attic, what little belongings he cherished in his arms with his bedding, “Only temporarily, while I have all the other rooms redecorated. The attic's so nice and airy and you'll be away from all of our fuss and bother. You'd be even more cozy if you kept all this bric-a-brac up there with you. Keep you amused.”  
His stepmother didn’t even bother to linger as he sat on the dusty bed already placed in the room, “Well, no one shall disturb me here,” He muttered despondently. Over the months that his father was gone and since he moved into the attic, Castiel helped ease the burdens of the house servants - like always - and put up with his step family’s manners. The attic became his sanctuary, as well as for the mice he had come to love and care for.

_Mornings did not agree with Cas' stepsisters. And they lacked accomplishment in such domestic arts as keeping house. In fact, they lacked accomplishment in any art._

_Cas’ great comfort were the letters that Father would send from his travels. The weeks away lengthened to months, but every day would bring his thoughts from some distant part._

_Until late one afternoon…_

“Mister Castiel, it’s the mail coach!” Having heard the call from down below, the man did not hesitate to run down the stairs, whirling past his sisters and mother on his way out. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was out the door, he could see farmer John standing there, his hat and a letter in his hands, “Farmer John?”  
“It’s your father. He took ill on the road,” He could feel his world start to crumble, cracks and fissures marring his reality, “He’s passed on, sir. He’s gone.”  
In that moment, the world shattered and gave way from beneath him. He couldn’t breathe, nor could her see for tears blinded his vision. All he could think about was the fact that now, the only person he truly loved besides his mother, is now gone. It took every ounce of his being to listen to the old farmer’s next words.  
“To the end, he spoke only of you, sir. And your mother,” He didn’t need to clarify which mother he spoke of, “I was to give you this,” In his outstretched hand was a branch. The leaves had long since died since it was plucked from its life source, but Castiel didn’t care. The symbol was gone. His father did not come with his gift.  
Chest heaving with quiet sobs, the last of the Shurley family sank to his knees, branch clutched tightly in hand. In the background he could hear his dear sisters woeing over their lack of parasol. In a moment of weakness he snapped, “Can’t you see? None of that matters!” He growled, his deep voice grating, “It doesn’t matter.”

_How indeed to live. Economies had to be taken. Cas’ stepmother dismissed the household. His stepmother and stepsisters ever misused him. And by and by they considered Castiel less a brother than a servant._

_And so Cas was left to do all the work. This was a good thing, for it distracted him from his grief. At least that was what his stepmother said. And she and her two daughters were more than happy to provide Cas with lots and lots of distraction._

_In their defense, they did share with him the very food they ate, or rather, the scraps from their table. He had little in the way of friends. Well, his friends were very little._

_But those friends he had, he treated with an open heart and an open hand._

_Sometimes, by the end of the day, the drafty attic was too cold to spend the night in, so he lay by the dying embers of the hearth to keep warm._

Castiel had already set the table for breakfast and called the females of the house down, and now he was focused on the task of cleaning the fireplace. The Lady Abaddon’s voice cut through the pleasant morning sounds, “I thought breakfast was ready.”  
He refused to look at her as the muscle in his jaw clenched, “It is, madame, I am merely mending the fire.”  
“See to it in the future that we be called down after the work is done. And is that ash on your face? Please see yourself to the basin and rid yourself of that filth once you’ve finished.”  
“As you wish,” Castiel stood to pour the women their tea, sooty hands leaving faint marks on the fine china.  
“You’ll get cinders in our tea!” Ruby shouted indignantly.  
“Oh, I’ve got a new name for him!” Meg cried with glee, “Cinderwench.”  
“I couldn’t bear to look dirty like that,” Castiel felt embarrassment heat his face and neck as he shrank a little in on himself in shame.  
“Dirty Casti _ella._ ”  
“Cinder-ella.”  
“Oh! That’s what we’ll call you!”  
“Girls,” Some sort of deranged hope sparked within Cas that believed his horrid stepmother was defending him. He should never learn to get his hopes up, “You’re both far too clever.”  
Trying his best to ignore them, the man put a biscuit on a small saucer and set it down. The three looked on in confusion, “Who’s this for?”  
“Is there someone we’ve forgotten?”  
“It’s my place,” He said quietly, but Lady Abaddon merely tsked at him.  
“Isn’t it much to expect you to make food, serve us and still sit with us? Do you not want to wait until all of your work is done, Castiel?” Anger flared within him, which was quickly doused and replaced by sadness, “Or should I say, Cinderella?”  
He ran. He mounted a horse and he just ran.

_Cinderella._

_Names have power, like magic spells. And all of a sudden, it seemed to his that her stepmother and stepsisters had indeed transformed him into merely a creature of ash and toil._

Castiel pulled the horse to a stop in the middle of the woods, both panting for breath. The tears he had cried left marks in the dirt on his face, but they had stopped flowing altogether. A rustle to his right caused him to look that way, only to see a buck staring at him with wide eyes. In the distance, shouts can be heard from a hunting party.  
“Go,” He whispered, “Quickly, run my friend, or they’ll catch you!”  
The sudden appearance of the party and departure of the buck caused the horse he rode, Gabriel, to whinny in fright and take off quickly into the forest. Shouts of caution followed him and Castiel could hear the pounding of hoofbeats behind him.

_Perhaps it was just as well that Castiel's stepsisters were cruel. For had he not run to the forest, he might never have met the prince._

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue is very much movie based


End file.
